


I'm Just The Same As I Was

by thelittlethings



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Headcanon, Non-Canon Relationship, The Friendship We All Secretly Want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 01:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/704670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlethings/pseuds/thelittlethings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin is a strawberry blonde math goddess who graces the world with her presence, and Stiles would be lying if he said he wasn't better because of her. </p>
<p>Or, the anniversary where Lydia being Lydia is exactly what Stiles needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Just The Same As I Was

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever work on here, so any feedback is appreciated. This is one of my many headcanons involving Stiles and Lydia, and, surprisingly, none of them ever involve them actually being a couple.

Stiles can still remember the day she died, how the room was stark white and suffocating with sadness. He remembers the scent of bleach burning his nose as he walked through the halls, the way the nurses would look at he and his father with pity before averting their gazes to the floor. She was holding his hand as tight as she could, tears streaming down her face as she told him she loved him.

"Can you promise me one thing?" she whispered, her eyes faltering for just a moment.

Stiles nodded, unable to say anything back.

"Promise me you'll take care of your dad. Keep him in line, okay? You're going to have to hold down the fort now."

And then the Sheriff was there, kneeling down next to his wife and pressing their foreheads together, whispering words to each other that Stiles couldn't hear before he was ushered out of the room.

A child shouldn't have to bear that burden.

Anniversaries passed, mourned instead of celebrated. Gone were the homemade birthday cakes and the sweet sounding music from the piano in the hall. The piano's been gone for a while, Stiles knows that. He also knows that she has been too. He knows the exact number of days, but he'll never tell anyone that the hurt still runs that deep. He never talks about her, not even to his Dad, because how could he do that to him? He may have lost a mother, but the Sheriff lost a wife, and he'd loved her much longer than Stiles had.

Stiles wakes up to a note on the kitchen counter, telling him that he got called into work early but that he'll be home in time for dinner. Shaking his head, Stiles stashes the note in his pocket. He knows that he's going to have to make an exception to the healthy eating rule. They both could use a break.

He hopes tonight goes better than the years before it. The whiskey's still sitting on the side counter from the last time Stiles took it out of his hand and escorted him to bed. It's not a fun experience.

Absentmindedly running his fingers over the keys, he stops for a moment before getting into his mother's old Jeep. The drive to the florist is silent. He has a standing arrangement with the owner; he'll buy the most extravagant arrangement of orange lilies the shop has to offer, and, in exchange, the owner won't look at him in pity. Norma, the woman behind the counter, smiles at him and hands him the bouquet, but she still can't hide the sadness in her eyes. Stiles hands over the cash and doesn't wait for change.

\- - -

The cemetary sits at the top of a long hill. Stiles likes to think that she would have liked all the sunshine; spring was always her favorite season. Today, though, it's raining, and he supposes she might have liked that too.

Stiles sets the flowers down on her grave and stares at the way the letters are worn, well accustomed to being somewhere they shouldn't have been for a very long time. Despite the dampness of the ground, Stiles sits down and stares at the stone, tracing the numbers with his fingers. His face is wet, and he's not sure if it's more because of the rain or the tears.

His father's words echo in his mind.

"I miss your mom."

_Yeah_ , Stiles thinks. _Me too_.

\- - -

Stiles stops at the grocery store on the way home to buy the steaks. His mind is anywhere but where it should be as he pushes his cart back to the return, and he's only jogged back into reality when he hears the grating noise of metal on metal.

"I'm sor---"

He stops dead in his tracks. Standing in front of him is the same strawberry blonde goddess he remembers running to his mother on the playground after school to talk about.

Stiles shifts his weight as her gaze dissects him. She looks at him like she always does, acutely observant. Stiles doesn't realize he's shaking until Lydia puts her hand over his and steadies it.

She looks up at him, and Stiles prepares for the pity. If anyone remembers what day today is, it's Lydia.

"Do you want to work on our physics project? I know it's early, but I want to get a head start on it," she rattles off, looking at him expectantly, crossing her arms.

Stiles just stares at her.

"Well?" she repeats, tapping her foot.

Dumbfound, Stiles nods, and Lydia walks over to her car. Shaking his head, he just watches her, her floral print dress swaying in the wind and her hair collecting droplets of rain as she walks.

Lydia turns around before opening the driver's seat door. "Stiles!" she snaps, and he jumps a bit, pointing to his Jeep.

"Right. I'm getting in. You can follow me to my house?" he suggests.

She shakes her head, half smiling to herself, before pulling her car door shut.

Maybe, this year, things won't be as bad.


End file.
